You Cad!
by Artificially Intelligent Data Anomaly
Summary: Third chapter! A game of football, a goddessless valley, a story of childhood, and the promise of renewed life. I guarantee you'll think about each character a little differently after reading this! HM:AnWL. Ultimately, Rock x Jill.
1. Prologue: Pessimism on Hooves

Welcome to my first Harvest Moon fan fiction. I hope to give you all an entertaining spiel of how I think Jill would really act. I live on a farm, and I work my bum off on a farm. I haven't met anyone like Jill that lasts that long on a competitive, organic farm. I gave her personality because, frankly, that whole "nice, sweet goddess personified" thing is boring and unrealistic. Her purple eyes have a reddish tint for a reason.

So, if you like the unrealistic, innocent goddess thing, don't read this. If you want a punky, spunky, relatable and passionate gal who's just trying to make it while having fun doing it in this hellish world of ours, then come on right in.

**Note**: I have made some changes to thischapter. For a summary of those changes, please read thenotes at the end. Thank you.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harvest Moon (A.K.A. "Bokujou Monogatari). Marvelous, Natsume, and Nintendo are the ones who have claim to that. Also, I do not own anything else that comes up in this fan fiction. As an example, Pokémon. I don't own that.I do believe that I own this work, though, so no copying.

Now, let's get to the fun stuff.

**Rated For:** Now, I had a really funny list for this, but it's gone now. . . Anyway:

Weird clothes, the raver way of life, _way_ too much partying, dramatic raver makeup, Rock doing a horrible robot dance, Marlin's hair, Gustafa's beard, Rock's asshole-ism, marriage, baby-making (well, they have a kid -- no sex scenes, I assure you), well, _implied _sex scenes (no descriptions, just a really lame, rated T fade-out), annoying teenagers, a bitter Takakura, a devious little Rock, and one very pissed, very possessive horse.

**Note: **Several things have been edited in this fan fiction. This topic is discussed in detail at the end of this chapter. Thank you. (Just in case you didn't read it the first time.)

****

You Cad!

Prologue: Pessimism on Hooves

Nami would never admit it, but today was a rather good day. She had been awoken nice and early in her room on the second floor of the Inner Inn -- for once _not _by Rock's (her next-door neighbor) snores, but by the beautiful late-winter sunlight. That night, she had actually had a good sleep: no dreams, no nightmares. One minute she had shut her eyes for bed, and the next she had opened her eyes to the beautiful morning.

She looked into the mirror hanging above her dresser. In her opinion, nothing much was staring back at her. Just a girl with short, unruly red hair, run-of-the-mill blue eyes, a semi-fair complexion that was beginning to tan, and really rumpled clothes.

Maybe it was the sun. Maybe it was the fact that Rock had finally capped his snoring habit (which would put _anyone _in an absolutely _fantastic _mood). Or, maybe it was because Nami's life was starting to turn around after one year in Forget-Me-Not Valley.

Whatever it was, Nami decided that she was going to change what looked at her in the mirror.

---

"Ruby-san! Ruby-san! Could you come up here?" Nami called from the rectangular "hallway" that was the second floor's main room. It was the same size as the two sleeping chambers of the Inner Inn, so it had plenty of elbow room. In the center of it, a staircase lead down to the foyer and front desk of the modest little place, rimmed with a banister to protect "clumsier guests."

(Of course, most people joked that it was to keep the inn-owners' rambunctious, party-hardy son from falling back down the stairs after one of his late night outings at the Blue Bar, located just a stone's throw away.)

A round, kind, oriental-looking woman walked up the stairs. She had short, black hair, small, dark eyes, a slightly tan complexion, and a wonderfully kind smile. Ruby was a brilliant mother and hostess. Everything about her screamed "sweet." It was no wonder that she managed to find love and happiness; she gave so much of it in return.

Naturally, people like this should be avoided when they finally snap.

"What do you need, Nami?" questioned Ruby as she smoothed her dark red apron. Nami mentally noted that she was wearing the same old yellow t-shirt with her long, earthy skirt.

"Uhm . . ." the redhead articulately replied, forgetting why she had called the woman up the stairs in the first place. "I would like you to wash my clothes . . . for . . . me. Ruby-san, are you feeling alright?"

The plump woman's small eyes were sparkling with happiness. "Oh, Nami-san! I've been waiting for you to ask me that! I've always wanted to help you with your laundry . . . Have you realized that you only own four outfits (_all _identical, even!), and you apparently haven't washed them once? Here, here, give me your winter one! Out of it immediately!"

With that, Ruby shoved Nami into her room, shut the door, and retrieved Nami's clothes off of her person. When they reemerged, Nami was wearing a light blue tank top with a big orange star on the front and red flannel boxer shorts. Scratching her head uncomfortably, Nami thanked Ruby of the Inner Inn and retreated to her room, shutting the door.

---

Ruby happily trotted down the stairs, muttering to herself about Nami's clothes. "These things are so smelly. Why does she never wash? Plain, orange tank top, light blue flannel, sleeveless vest, plain, light blue jeans shorts . . . The girl has no fashion sense . . ."

---

Back in her room, Nami was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her diary in her lap. Now was as good a time as any to update the darn thing.

_Winter, Day 7, 1st Year in Valley_

_Yo --_

_Okay, so I decided to get my clothes washed. It doesn't mean anything. Maybe I was a little tired of feeling grungy._

_I don't know. Maybe it _does_ mean something. Surely getting your clothes washed doesn't mean that you're losing your moral standing in life? _

_Of course it doesn't. I'm being ridiculous._

_Today, I woke up peacefully. No dreams whatsoever. I love it that way. Just a small, black void in memory. I'm sure I'm the only one who thinks so. The rest of the world is so bizarre. Few people can understand, and even fewer _wish_ to. _

_I was woken up by the sun today. It felt great on my face -- a gentle caress. It made me think of him. He's a great guy. I think he may very well get me. No one really gets why I'm here, but I'm sure that he does. The way he gently smiles at me, his music, his words . . . He gets me._

_Too bad for him that I don't fall for men that easily. Really, I'm pretty asexual. I'm not attracted to men or women. No interest._

_Since I can't leave the room in my pajamas (Goddess forbid if Rock were to see me in them), I think I'll stick my head out the window and hear a ballad about love, loss, and nature._

_Gustafa is such an odd fellow._

_-- Me_

_---_

An hour later, Nami walked out of the Inner Inn's main floor door, looking more refreshed than she ever had. After washing in Tim and Ruby's private bathroom, she had brushed her hair straight and made herself look as awake as possible. Instead of an unruly, wavy mane sticking out in all directions around Nami's face, her hair was now hanging down in straight, shiny, still-drying strands. Water marks rimmed her flannel vest's collar, and she had never felt more alive than at that moment.

She swung a right, walking down a well-trodden path. If she were to suddenly take another right after clearing the inn, she would find herself in the heart of the valley, where she would see Gustafa's Yurt (and hear his wonderful music), a small, wooded swamp, a creepy lab with science fiction-like, electrified rods towering above it, the Blue Bar, and the beach, which had two gazebo-like structures made for people to sit under where it rains, an old rowboat, and metal sheets weighed down by rocks.

If she were to swing a left after a few paces, she would discover herself to be at the old farm. Once upon a time, a dashing devil in his mid-forties worked the place, but shortly after his death (which happened two seasons ago tomorrow), the place fell apart. People just shrugged their shoulders and said, "The old boy died of being over-worked and having a broken heart." His wife had left him ten years ago, and he never seemed to have recovered. His daughter had never came to see him and never wrote, which furthered his pain exponentially.

_So he just up and died, _Nami thought, looking at the part of the farm that was visible from the pathway. A man by the name of Takakura had worked the land with him; now, he just lived there, alone, never doing much._ Poor fool._

Nami stood there and looked around. She could go straight, cross the river, and go to Vesta's Farm, which was Takakura's farm's competition in the crop-growing department. Or, she could pass that, head up the dangerously steep, blood-thirsty-looking mountain, and go to the city.

_Oh, that's right, _she remembered._ The bridge to the river on the other side of the mountain is out, so I'd have to trek all around the country just to get to the city. Darn . . ._ She wondered how Chris, a fellow redhead who doubled as a weather forecaster in the aforementioned city, ever got to her job on time.

Walking up a bit farther, she decided to not cross the bridge; instead, she was going to take the second left. This would take her down a horribly long trail (which had another entrance to Takakura's dump of a farm). At the end of the trail she'd find herself at the waterfall and woods, where gigantic flowers--ones as tall as horses--glowed with mysterious light at night, where a mysterious spring was, and where an old tree sat on its last legs (roots?)towards the very back of the mystical thicket.

Decidedly, she put her foot forward to continue down the path and to the wood, when she saw something quite unusual speeding her way.

A man on a gigantic, brown Clydesdale was charging down the mountain and picking up speed. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and he was wearing a blue uniform that could've been either a policeman's or a mailman's. His dark eyes were dead-set on the path before him, and his black messenger bag slapped against the horse's flanks and his legs.

_That may very well be the most _determined_ looking mail carrier I have _ever_ seen,_ Nami contemplated calmly whilestaring at him in complete shock._ Wait, he's going a bit too fast--_

"Look out, you fool!" he screeched. "I'm going to crash right into you, you idi--"

It happened suddenly. Nothing could have prevented it.

To Nami, the event unfolded in a slow-mo, dreamlike way. The horse's hooves were charging at her, aiming to squash her into the earth. The postman's determined-yet-frightened look as he tried to swerve out of the way. The blinders on the horse's head, hiding its eyes from the horror about to unfold. Nami just stood there in shock, thinking about how the horse wouldn't be able to see her anyway because horses' eyes are situated on the sides of their heads, so what in the _world _was the point of--

"Oof!"

Nami was on the ground. The horse's chest had made impact with her body, causing her to fall to the ground just in time to be stepped on between her shoulder blades by one of the horse's four hooves. The great beast charged past her, took a right, and disappeared up the way to the old farm, its rider shouting out a "Sorry!" as they went.

Nami pushed herself up. She was completely covered in mud and snow. Her newly washed clothes were ruined, and her hair was a great mess of mud, tears, and . . . She put a hand up to her head. Was that _yellow snow_?

Yellow snow?

The woman stood up and brushed herself off. _Twenty-eight years of hell_, she thought. _Twenty-eight _freaking _years of hell on this earth, and yet there are _still _more ways of torture coming out of the woodwork. _

She moved her shoulders in circles. Luckily, the damn beast didn't break her spine, but there was going to be a fine bruise and a great amount of pain by the day's end.

"Life bites," Nami muttered. With that, she marched back to the Inner Inn, ignored Ruby when she questioned Nami on her appearance, and slammed the door to her room shut. Marching over to her mirror, she put her hands into her hair and shook the stuff for all it was worth. Yellow-tinted snow fell to the carpet.

Perfect. Just wonderful.

She marched down the stairs and coldly demanded to use Ruby's bathroom again.

Ruby sighed; once again, the girl was devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Her ice-blue eyes looked dead, and her mouth had formed an indifferent line. It would take many seasons for her to get over whatever had happened. What a setback.

Ruby just tiredly smiled at the hopeless girl. "Of course."

Nami stiffly nodded her thanks, stomped through Tim and Ruby's quarters, and slammed the door to the bathroom shut.

"Screw this."

After that day, all in the valley noted that Nami had become a lot meaner, much more colder, and that her hair had never been crazier-looking.

---

"Hmm? What's this?" Takakura grunted as he was loudly interrupted while making his breakfast. There had been several cries of distress, some crashing sounds, and a great whinny. He put the stove burner to low and abandoned his scrambled eggs, wanting to see what was up.

Takakura opened his door, only to receive one and one-half hard knocks to his nose. Wincing, he put a hand over his face and cried, "What the hell?"

"Oh, sorry, sir! Terribly, terribly sorry! You see, you opened the door right when I was about to knock, and . . ." The postal service worker stopped dead when he fully registered Takakura's appearance.

The man was obviously somewhere around his late forties, and had thick, bushy black eyebrows which seemed to have gotten bigger with each year he had grown. His eyes were squinty -- so squinty that you couldn't see much of the irises -- but not in a mistrustful way. The man had his black hair slicked back (save a few unruly strands that refused to bend to his will), and wore a dirty undershirt and jeans. The thing that seemed to startle the postman the most was the large tattoo of an anchor on Takakura's tanned, muscled arm.

_Dear Goddess, this man was in the army! He's muscled! **And I just knocked him!**_ This sent the poor man into another torrent of apologies and whimpering.

Takakura just raised one of his prominent eyebrows and waved it off. "'Sokay, boy. No need to get all riled up over nuthin'. Now, why would a youngun' such as yourself care to visit me? If you need a place to stay, there's an Inn right over--"

"No, sir! It's fine, sir!" the dutiful postman replied, straightening his posture in what he hoped was in a military fashion. "I was paid a great amount of money to get this letter to you as soon as possible!" With that, he thrust a bright red envelope at the old farmer.

Takakura eyed it suspiciously. "Are you sure it's fer me, son? I don't usually get . . ." he trailed off.

The postal worker shook his head vigorously. "No, sir, I'm sure! She said that you live on an old farm by yourself in Forget-Me-Not Valley, and she described the place a bit, just in case. Yessiree, I stake my badge on this being the place!"

For a moment, Takakura was silent. Then he opened his mouth and asked, "Son, just how much money is she paying you to get this to me?"

"Quadruple my already generous salary, sir," the man in front of him replied sheepishly, blushing and kicking at the ground with his feet. A whinny came from behind him, bringing his horse, which was lounging near the barn door adjacent to Takakura's log house, to notice. "Oh, and she paid for the food for my horse to and from here. The bridge is out to the river on the other side of the mountain, you know. I had to trek all the way across the country just to--"

"Yes, yes, I know," Takakura interrupted, suddenly snappish. He just figured out who the girl probably was. "Did this lady have a name? Do _you _have a name?"

"U-Uhm, my name is Harris, and the girl's forename was some foreign thing. Sounded weird."

"Lycoris?"

"Actually, yes, I think that was it," Harris said.

"Ah, I see," replied Takakura, seemingly more agitated the more Harris told him. "Did she state any business about the letter?"

"No, but she seemed rather sad when she gave it to me," the postman admitted. "I don't read the letters I deliver, so don't even _think--"_

"It's not about that," Takakura interrupted yet again. With a sigh, he began to retreat back into his one-room home. "Okay, I have it now. Thank you very much. You may go now."

Just as the tired farmer was about to shut the door, Harris cried, "Wait!"

Tiredly curious, Takakura stuck his head out of the entryway. "What is it _now_?"

"Uhm . . . If you will, I was paid to wait here until you replied to it and take your reply back . . ."

With an irritated sigh, the old man informed Harris that he would read the letter, promptly write a reply, and get it back to him before noon, so he should go out and walk around the town until then. Relieved to have an excuse to leave for awhile, Harris went to go wander about the valley.

Slamming the door behind him, Takakura shuffled over to his bed, where he sat down, grabbed his reading glasses from his nightstand, and read the letter.

"You've got a lot of nerve, missy," he remarked as he began to open the darned thing. "Never wrote, never came over after the divorce . . . Some'd go as far as to say that you were the damn reason yer father died."

---

_Winter, Day Five_

_Dear Takakura._

_Hello. I'm sure that you mustn't remember me. Hah-hah. It's been over a decade, after all. It's me, Rei's daughter._

_Life in the city is really dull, but it's starting to get dangerous. Crime rates are up for the first time in years. Gangs are actually popping out of the woodwork -- nothing major, but enough to get the local authorities worried. The person in the apartment next to mine was mugged. She lost 20,000 G! In these apartments, that's just play money, but out on the streets, that's quite a bit._

_I _still _say it's her fault for carrying it around._

_---_

Takakura stopped to laugh. The gal was still as smarmy as ever.

---

_Anyway, it's sort of getting scary. I am in no way afraid, though. If you're careful, you'll do fine anywhere. Plus, I'm fairly strong, too. No worries!_

_So, you probably didn't hear, but I'm now one of the top CEOs of Digital Lycoris. We mainly make video games, but our top endeavor at the moment is to refine virtual reality capabilities. I'm fairly good at my job, but I don't know why the keep me on. I always come in late and tired because I party all night, I can't seem to make even the most generous of deadlines, and seeing as how I clawed my way to the top, I'm guessing that I'm not being kept on out of the goodness of the chairman's heart._

_(Did you catch the name similarity? It's no coincidence. The chairman of the company has been dating my mother for years and said that the idea of natural beauty gone digital (hence the virtual reality work)came from when he saw me playing a video game when I was younger. . . Which is sort of creepy, when you think about it.) _

_Truth is, I think they promoted me to have a patsy. There have been rumors of embezzlement, and I think that they may blame it on me. Sure, there are bad things in the city, but _this _is what _I'm_ scared of. _

_How's life in the country? The air in the city has been getting worse. Ugh. Like it wasn't bad already. I bet the air out there is fine, though. Is everyone there happy? Suicide rates have been increasing here. Hah-hah._

_---_

Takakura stopped. He suddenly had absolutely no desire to go to the city. Ever. It sounded like a hellhole from the very depths of the earth.

---

Can I be honest?

It's not that bad. It's wonderful here. Hustle-and-bustle life continues. The suicide rates are not _up, gangs are _not _forming, and the air isn't quite as bad as I make it out to be. _

. . . I still am going to be corporately, financially, and just plain screwed if I don't find a different job, though. That I didn't lie about.

The thing is, I saw something happen, and I didn't like it. As I was walking to work on one of the smaller _sidewalks (the width is about a bus's length -- you've seen them), I saw a boy trip and fall. He began to cry, and no one helped him. As I stood there and watched, something unthinkable happened -- a man actually _stepped _on him and kept going._

Stepped on him.

Can you believe that? It made me so furious I almost went after the guy and clocked him. The thing that saddened me the most is, though . . . I didn't stop either. I was going to be late if I did. I think the boy got a broken arm. I didn't stop to help because of my hustle-and-bustle life.

I'm not sure that I want all of this anymore.

So, what I'm trying to say is . . .

I want to work on the farm. For you. For me. For dad.

I'm so, so sorry. For everything. Please consider.

-Lycoris (It's foreign (you remember it, don't you?), but it's lai-ko-ris. Dad was always an odd one when it came to names.)

---

Takakura sighed. This was a predicament, but the girl had an honest-to-goddess _good _reason for wanting to come. Taking out a sheet of white, plain paper, he began to write.

"Well, girly," he said to himself. "Ready or not, you get what you wish for."

---

Takakura stood outside the entrance to his farm, watching the galloping Harris go up the mountain and out of sight. Just as Takakura was about to turn around to go back, yet another ruckus had begun to unfold.

"Oof! Nami, what was that for? Ahck! Hey, you can't kick me out of my own-- OW!"

Takakura turned around to see a tan, blonde boy get tossed out of the entrance to the Inner Inn. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and light blue boxers. Takakura checked his watch. 11:30 AM. _Hmm, _he thought to himself. _Little early for Rock to be waking up. _

Along with the golden-brown-eyed boy came a blanket and a pillow, both plain, normal white, along with a maelstrom of shouts and curses.

Rock's eyes widened. "Jeez, Nami, no need to be so angry." He let loose a loud yawn. "What's with the attack so early in the morning, anyhow?"

"_You're snoring too loudly!_" came the screeched out reply. Oooh, was Nami in a bad mood! Takakura briefly wondered as to why this was.

Rock blinked his eyes, leaving them half-shut. "If it's about your hair this morning, I think it looks great!" He tried to put on a positive smile, but with his half-shut eyes (due to sleepiness), it looked more like a contemptuoussmirk.

"_URUSAI! (SHUT UP!)" _Nami shrieked, shutting the door to the Inner Inn. A few stomping sounds and the sound of another slamming door later, and the scuffle seemed to be over.

Rock sat in the middle of the path with his blanket and pillow. Looking over to where Takakura was standing, he called out, "Hey! Mornin'! Little help . . . ?"

Takakura just laughed and shook his head. Like hell was he going to handle another issue that day. Turning on his heels, he marched right back up to his farm and gently shut the door to his cabin.

---

**EDITS**

Like I said, this went through some editing, so for any old readers, here's what changed:

_Kestrel's name is now Lycoris._ Although I am a .hack fan, the name change has absolutely nothing to do with .hack. Lycoris is a Greek name meaning "twilight," and has business and botanical connotations that work perfectly with this fiction. The business connotations will be revealed throughout the story. If you REALLY want the name changed back, give me a good reason why in a review.

_Kestrel knows what the hell she's doing at her company (for the most part). _At first, I thought it would be funny for her to not know as to what was going on at her company at all. Now that I look back upon it, it makes her come off as though she got her high status because she's a big-chested bimbo who slept with the higher-up people at her company, which is_not_ what this girl is like. She's still a potentialpawn for her company, but now she knows a bit about what her company does and is semi-competent, which is as much as most real-life CEOs can say.

_Kestrel has an unstable personality. _She'll normally come off as that loud, punky, spunky type of gal that I had in mind when I began writing this, but she'll also be reserved and quiet at times, and she'll act differently when certain things are brought up and such. Really, I think an unstable personality is very realistic. Few people act consistently throughout every situation they're in. Also, it may come to be a plot device later on in the story.

I think that's it. To get all of the changes to this chapter, just re-read the letter that Kestrel (now Lycoris) sent to Takakura.


	2. Apartment Blues

Hey! I'd like to shout out a big "sorry" to everyone who read the first chapter of this and wanted to read more. I'll stop being so lazy. The next chapter will be a tad shorter, so I'll be able to get it out a lot more quickly.

Just a quick note before we start. _Please_ make sure to reread the end notes and letter in this fiction's prologue (or technical "first" chapter). I've made several changes to it, and you _need _to read it.

Also, this chapter may come off as a tad depressed. I'd like to reassure everyone that this series is far from being an "emo" one. We all just have to come to terms with the fact that life can really be difficult at times. We've all had the notion of fleeing a bad situation before; I'm just giving Lycoris a chance to do it. It'll be interesting to see where it gets her, hm?

(About this chapter's title . . . LAST chapter was supposed to be "Prologue: Pessimism on Hooves," but it somehow got this chapter's name instead. If you look at the scroll thing that shifts between chapters, you'll see that this is called Apartment Blues and the other is called Pessimism on Hooves. Sorry.)

****

You Cad!

Chapter One: Apartment Blues

_I don't know _why_ I did it, okay? I just did. Can't I be spontaneous and irresponsible for once? _

_You're _always_ spontaneous and irresponsible. _

_Nn, demo. . . (Yeah, but. . .)_

_But what? You're just selfish, that's all. Azakeru is right about you. You're just a stupid whore. _

_Yeah, but look at her name. . . (1)_

Uruse, baka. (Keep silent, moron.)

Sigh. I just want to have meaning in my life. . .

Shush.

(Silence. . .)

Lycoris blocked the ever-persistent voice from her head. The damned thing was always telling her how horrible and selfish she was. It had been with her ever since childhood (though it hadn't always been negative), and she had no way to dispel it. After twenty-odd years of hearing it, she was getting quite fed-up.

Sighing irritably, she placed her drink onto the island bar (2) in her American-style kitchen (3), hopped onto her backed barstool, and began to chair-surf, having nothing better to stare at than her imitation-sky ceiling.

Lycoris had always talked to herself and answered back. It had helped her through tough times, and Koe (4) - for that was the voice's name - had always been her someone to bounce ideas off of. (Might she add that her ideas had landed her the job of a CEO of a top programming and virtual reality company and in one of the cushiest, most spacious apartments in her side of the hemisphere.)

_Yeah, _the voice spoke up._ A real nice job you have there. How long is going to be before they frame you for embezzlement, again? What was your estimate? Two, three months unless you get out now? We know from Azakeru that they're already planning it. They'll really start planning soon. Idiot._

It was quite obvious that Lycoris's answerer had been in a foul mood as of late and rather thought quite poorly of her.

Koe's comment caused Lycoris to shake her head and squeeze her eyes shut. _I can't be so negative_. Of course, she knew that Koe was really herself voicing opinions that she didn't want to admit she had. Although confusing, it also made a lot of sense. She didn't have a Master's degree in psychology for nothing.

On top of this sudden self-negativity slum, Lycoris had been feeling peculiar as of late. Even though she was female, Lycoris would be the first to admit that she was in tune with her emotions just as much as she was in tune while she sang.

_What could it be?_ She wondered to herself._ Maybe it's hollowness? It's not like I've been doing anything different. It sort of feels like I do the same thing over and over ag--_

"Oh, god _damn it_!" she roared, crashing to the ground on the forelegs of her chair with a disgusted expression on her face.

"I'm _bored_! I'm honest-to-Goddess bored!"

Never once in her adult life had Lycoris Bokh (changed to such based off of her old name, Raiko Arisu Bokujou) been bored. She was a high-rank member of an extremely wealthy and successful company, after all! On top of it, she didn't even do that much. All she knew was that the company paid for her double-major, her spacious apartment with a spectacular view, and continued to pay her quite handsomely for the past six years. Monetarily, life was _good._

Lycoris just had one little problem -- okay, _two _little problems -- _fine, _two rather large, hand-in-hand problems.

She loved partying and was just a _smidgeon_ of an alcoholic.

Sure,lots of young kids loved to do that, but most grew out of it or tamed it. For Lycoris, it just got worse. Her degree in psychology should've been able to tell her that she was being self-destructive, but of course she couldn't see that. For her, being a raver wasn't about self-destruction. It was about loving to live and living to love.

Drinking freed her of all inhibitions, magnified the good points of the evening's jaunt - if a wild, so crazy that not even the cops will bust it party that went from eight at night to five in the morning is what you'd call a jaunt - and washed away all of the bad points. It was perfect. She was even drinking a Shirley Temple right now, and it wasn't even noon yet!

Sadly, her "adult" life was just one big blur mixed with an eternal hang-over and a more than likely severely damaged liver. She thought she was happy, but deep down, she knew that the happiness of partying was just a mask she used to tell herself that everything was fine.

How could life's lover have so many problems?

As Lycoris tried to puzzle out as to how on Earth she could _possibly _be bored, the phone rang, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

"Jeez!" she cried, almost spilling her drink. "That ringer's _way_ too loud."

The phone continued to ring, but she made no move to pick it up. All she did was blandly stare at where it was mounted near the dividing wall in her kitchen. It was a piece of Digital Lycoris technology, which surprised many people. Usually, her company made video games or virtual reality equipment, but it also had an obscure electronics division.

"Hiya! This is Lycoris's answering machine!" piped a tinny, cheery voice that was masquerading as her own. "I'm not around right now, but if you need me that much, then don't piss your pants about it -- just call my cell. Goddess, don't you know that you should always try the cell first-- Oh." Laughter. "Well, just leave a message already!" Beep.

The space between the end of the beep and the caller's voice gave Lycoris just enough time to ponder as to why the hell she kept that message.

"Hey, babe, it's me," a smooth, male voice said. Lycoris instantly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her heartbeat accelerated, and she felt light-headed. _Oh, no. . ._

"Listen, I would absolutely _love it _if you would meet me later tonight. How about around seven-ish? Your place." He gave out an amiable laugh.

"I expect that you'll be there? Love you."

Click.

"Wotan. . ."

Lycoris hadn't ever had issues with a man before. Be it a boyfriend, a best friend, a brother, an uncle, a coworker. . . She could handle them all and relate to them all with relative ease. Many of those dearest to her soul were male. Lycoris thought she had them figured out and had pinned them down as simple yet kind creatures. That is, until. . .

They had met through Azakeru. She had thought that they would be perfect together, and for a time, she was right. Wotan was always gentlemanly, amiable, and caring. He was the main farmer from Flower Bud Village, and although he was a country boy, he had the mind and accent of a city dweller. Dashing good looks and feathery brown hair didn't hurt, either.

But. . .

She suddenly lurched from her seat and ran to the bathroom. Horrible retching noises ensued for roughly thirty seconds afterwards, followed by a flushing sound.

Eventually, Lycoris emerged, tired and pale. Her ponytail was loose, and strands were coming out. She shakily made her way to her living room's couch and sat for a moment, her head in her hands.

"I. . . I just can't _do _this anymore," she croaked, her throat raw from vomiting.

"I. . . Am I dying?"

The phone rang yet again, catching Lycoris off-guard. She lost her composure for a moment and gave out a dismayed sob. Not again. Not someone else to --

"Hey, Raiko Arisu!" It was Azakeru; she was the only one who snobbishly refused to call Lycoris by her new name.

"I know you're there. Pick up!" Pause. "Okay, then, be that way. Just listen. I know that Wotan wants to meet you later today."

Lycoris made a face. Wotan and Aza were closer than Wotan and herself.

"Oh! You're so lucky. He's absolutely perfect. You know, I think he's actually going to ask you to _marry _him!" Azakeru squealed with delight.

Lycoris's face and mind blanked. _What?_ How could that be? They've only known each other for a year, and no, no, she didn't want to marry him, but oh! she couldn't say no because Wotan didn't like it when she said no and then he'd --

"So, I'm going to come over in about two or three hours to help primp you for the big occasion! (_It's just like Azakeru to give me a vague time window, _Lycoris thought. _All apart of her trying to control me.)_

"You'd better be there when I come. No exceptions."

Click.

"This is bad," Lycoris moaned, getting up to pace around her house.

"If Azakeru comes over, then I definitely can't say no to his proposal. She'll have me trapped here until he comes, and. . .and. . . I'll --"

She interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath. Instantly, she stopped crying and calmed down. It was a psychological trick her mother had taught her to prevent her from crying. Businesswomen are never to cry, you know.

Lycoris was usually not a pushover or a person full of angst. Just the opposite: she was quite rough and happy in a wild woman, devil-may-care sort of way. However, lately her life had been. . .

_Shitty,_ bluntly proclaimed Koe. It gave a sordid chuckle._ Perhaps you should just give up the ghost now._

Lycoris's eyes widened. Never before had Koe _ever _said anything like that! Did that mean that, subconsciously, she was contemplating. . . ? 

"Hello? Hello? Ma'am, are you there? It's me, Harris. I have your reply!"

_Harris is here!_ She could've cried. Her savior had come in the form of a short, stout mail carrier. Practically tripping over herself, she answered the door and ushered Harris in.

(One may find it odd that Lycoris did this; however, since he was the personal mail carrier for her corporation's secret documents, Lycoris knew him quite well and trusted him even more so. They'd been friendly with one another for about two years.)

As he took off his shoes and placed on a pair of indoor slippers (5), Harris finally noticed Lycoris's disheveled condition.

"Ma'am! Are you alright? Nothing's happened, has it?" He seemed concerned, but also slightly nervous. Japan had the highest suicide rate in the world, and no one wants to be the last person to see someone before they decide to terminate themselves - for both religious (6) and legal reasons.

Lycoris offered him a tired smile. "Don't worry, Harris; I'm fine. Please, help yourself to what's in my kitchen. If you followed my directions, you should be rather famished." With an enthusiastic nod, Harris went to do just that.

_Besides,_ he thought,_ she may want some alone time to read that letter. What a messed up family._ Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts to making himself a sandwich.

Tiredly, Lycoris plopped down onto her couch and rested her feet on her coffee table. With a nervous look, she opened the letter that would tell her of her destiny.

---

Winter, Day 7

Lycoris --

Fine. Be ready to work.

---

Lycoris rolled her eyes. What a typical man. However, she gave a huge sigh of relief. The tension that had been built up over the course of several years in her battered, worn body was released in one short moment. She felt like she had a chance.

She lazily looked at the parchment, wondering if that was all he had written. Turning it over, she noticed that some very lengthy directions were written on the back. Great.

---

Directions to Forget-Me-Not Valley

(Not Forget-Me-Not City. So help me, Lycoris, if you mess that one up. . .)

---

Back at his small log cabin, Takakura was _still _stewing about that. He bet anything that she'd get confused and go there instead, the stupid city slicker.

(It happened the first (and last) time Lycoris went to visit her father on his new farm. She had been somewhere around the age of thirteen and in denial about her prominent businessman of a father living in the country and working as a farmer.)

---

Okay, listen up good, girl. If things were as they usually are, you'd be in Forget-Me-Not Valley the day after you read this. . .

However, the bridge up in the mountains that leads to the valley is out, and the mountains are too dangerous for you to cross no matter how hard you try or how much money you got to pay others to try for you.

---

"Well, _someone's _bitter."

"Hm?"

"Oh, nothing, Harris."

---

But luckily for you, I've come up with a surefire way to get you here by Spring 1 and in one piece. You're going to have to pass through a couple of towns, and you'll practically have to sprint for three days straight in order to get here in time, but I think you can do it.

---

Lycoris's heart almost failed.

Three days. . .of _sprinting_! She wasn't overweight, but she wasn't exactly the most fit thing, either.

_I think I may just die after all, _she thought rather cynically_. If I don't go crazy and commit hara-kiri (7), the trip to my one possible salvation just might end up offing me anyway!_ This caused her to laugh somewhat hysterically.

Harris shot her a concerned glance from the safety of the kitchen's island bar. "Are you sure you're alright, ma'am?"

She finished up her laughing spell. "Yes, Harris, I'm just fine. Please hold on one moment; I have to finish reading my letter."

---

_Now, to prevent you from doing something stupid like trying to_ cross over the mountains_, I've divided the directions into parts. You'll receive the next part from the person you're supposed to visit in the next town. You better understand, 'cause I can't explain it any better than that. _

_Part I_

_Take the westbound road out of the city and into the forest until you hit a river. Follow the river as it curves into the forest. After awhile, you'll hit a large rock face. That's Mother's Hill. You can follow the river around it, but it's quicker to climb the hill. Don't worry; it's not that hard._

_Once you're up there, follow the path into the surrounding woods. Eventually, you'll hit a fork in the path. Go straight. The path on the left leads upwards to a hot spring, and the one to the right leads to a carpenter's house and eventually into Mineral Town. Neither are important, and I only told you that to make sure that you've got your bearings straight, so don't get any ideas._

_If you go straight like I told you to, you'll find a farm. Go to the main house and say that Takakura sent you. There should be a blonde-haired woman there to welcome you. If only her gypsy husband is around, I suggest that you don't make your presence known 'till the woman gets there. The gypsy's supposedly a flirt, and he doesn't need the temptation of cheating._

_If you leave the city at around twelve-ish on Winter 8, you should get there at about dinnertime. That's when they'll be expecting you, anyway._

_Well, that's it. Samora will give you the rest of the directions. Good luck._

_- Takakura_

_---_

After finishing the letter, Lycoris stared at it for a moment. After that moment, she calmly glanced at the clock.

11:35.

" "If you leave the city at about twelve-ish on Winter 8, you should get there at about dinnertime," " she quoted, ignoring Harris's presence and confused mumble.

She calmly glanced at the clock again. This time, it read 11:36.

"I've only twenty-four minutes to get ready and get out of the heart of a city that's jammed with both automobile and pedestrian traffic and has a four-mile long radius," she flatly stated, half to herself and half to her guest.

Lycoris stood and evenly bowed to Harris. "Thank you for completing your task so efficiently, Harris-san, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I must pack and get out of this godforsaken place. I trust that you'll keep this little venture between us?"

Harris stood, eager to bow back. "I will, Lycoris-san. Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity. Good luck with your new life." With that, he walked over to the flat's exit, replaced his shoes, and promptly left.

The young woman waited several moments to make sure that Harris was gone. Once she was satisfied with the distance between him and her rooms, she promptly picked up one of her couch's pillows and exasperatedly screamed into it.

---

Her bedroom was a flurry of movement. Cosmetics, accessories, tampons, bras, panties, clothes, toiletries, dental care supplies, an mp3 player, a cellular phone, sunglasses, sundresses, sun _lotion_ -- all contributed to the maelstrom that was slowly feeding itself into one of Lycoris's larger rucksacks.

By this time, it was 11:43, and Lycoris was getting worried. How she was going to get out of the city so fast, she had _no _idea. At this time of day, the auto traffic was starting to thin out, but pedestrian traffic would be difficult to traverse due to the city-wide lunch break that started at twelve. The _jinrikisha _(8) may be in service, but it'd take one hell of a man to pull her through the city in such a short amount of time.

After the fourth outfit had been crammed into her rucksack, Lycoris stopped. She had to be smart about how she packed. She was going to a _farm_, after all, not an underground rave or a business convention. (Ironically, she went to the former just as often as the latter.)

So, she repacked. The cosmetics -- both "normal" and "raver" -- were kept, along with a supply of tampons and toiletries to last her two seasons. Dental care supplies were a must, along with sunglasses and sunscreen. On top of these, some jewelry, a purse, her cellular phone (plus an extra battery), her mp3 player, and an old, outdated Gameboy were added into her bag. Sadly, she also managed to fit a good-sized saké bottle in with everything else. ("One never knows when the occasion will arise," she said aloud, convincing herself that it was acceptable to bring it.)

Only one sundress was admitted, along with a more formal dress and one outfit that she enjoyed wearing to raves. (Her excuse for the last outfit was eerily similar to her excuse for the alcohol.) Lycoris had also managed to find some "work clothes" that she was sure no one would take offense to: an orange and white tee with her old surname printed on the front (9), a plain ponytail holder, a pair of fingerless work gloves, a nice pair of jeans to wear underneath the skirt, and some sturdy hiking boots.

(Of course, there was the issue of undergarments. The pricier items did not wish to be left behind, yet some of the memories attached to them did. Lycoris knew that she was going to have to favor comfort over monetary value, so she compromised by taking mostly plainer articles along with a special pair that hadn't been worn yet.)

When she saw that it had taken her eight minutes to do this, however, she loudly cursed herself and hastily zipped up the rucksack, inevitably causing the zipper to stick and for her to curse aloud once more. Giving up, she left it that way, grabbed a bento box and modernly stylized bottle of water (10), and ran out the door, not even caring to lock up.

She was free.

---

(1) Azakeru means to "deride, sneer, or ridicule." Also, her nickname, "Aza," is another Japanese word. It means birthmark, bruise, or black eye. (snicker) When you don't think of its meaning, it's cute, but the nickname fits her rather nicely.

(2) If you don't know what this is, an island bar is a small bar in the middle of a kitchen. Generally, they have cupboards to store stuff and some can be sat around, like a table.

(3) This basically means that Lycoris's kitchen is big and is a room unto itself. In some apartments in Japan, you just get a small kitchenette that doesn't even have its own room. The large kitchen suggests that Lycoris is quite wealthy.

(4) Koe means "voice." What a copout for a name, eh? I'd also like to touch on this subject right now. Yes, Lycoris has a voice in her head that she debates with. This heavily suggests insanity, but let's see how crazy she really is before we judge her, hm?

(5) In Japanese households, one generally removes their shoes at the door. This makes the atmosphere more casual and clean. In all the ones I've been in, a pair of indoor slippers are supplied, but you more than likely can walk around in your socks, if you wanted.

(6) If you've seen "The Grudge," you know what that's talking about. It's a bad sign if someone dies in the throes of rage or sadness. It's related to Shinto, which is one of the big religions in Japan.

(7) Hara-kiri is another word for _seppuku_, or suicide via the stabbing of the stomach. It's a traditional suicide method that was considered honorable when a samurai chose it.

(8) _Jinrikisha _are rickshaws. They're those carts that you get into, and then a strong guy comes and pulls you to your destination. I'm not sure if they're originally from Japan, but "_jinrikisha_" is made from three different Japanese words. . .

(9) Okay, I'm not one-hundred percent sure on as to what her tee really says, but I'm just having it be "Bokujou." If you know what it says for sure, then please contact me.

(10) Bento boxes are small boxes with food in them -- perfect for lunch at work or school -- and if you want to know what I mean by "modernly stylized bottle of water," just go Google "Ramune." Very funky bottle designs.

Well, that wraps up this chapter! Here's to hoping that I pump out more soon, and that they won't have as many end notes!

Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think! I love all types of comments.

- A i D A


	3. Forget

This chapter is the first of a mini-arc trilogy called "Forget-Me-Not." (Original, right?) Each chapter in the trilogy will start with a word in the arc's title; as an example, this chapter is titled "Forget." Also, each chapter will have themes of its title lightly sprinkled into it. Obviously, this chapter's semi-theme is about forgetting things.

Mainly, this mini-arc addresses some of the social patterns of Forget-Me-Not Valley. Lycoris is tied into this chapter towards the end, but you need to wait for "Me" for a full update.

**Important Note:** The HM community is dying. Our forums have been inactive for far too long. Everyone head over to Jersey Strat-O's forum and start talking! (It's called Neo Scholastics.) To survive as a community, we need to band together and start _talking_. It helps the creative process and will leave everyone with much better fan fiction. Plus, it's really fun to go and talk about HM with like-minded people. So go do it.

****

You Cad!

Chapter 3: Forget

In the field between Vesta's farm and the beginning of the mountains, emotions ran high. The tension was almost tangible: bright, electrified lines snaking throughout the field, linking souls together in an almost bestial embrace.

Tawny eyes shifted about, excitedly trying to see past their owner's sunlight-colored bangs. This was it.

"Twenty-two. . ."

The two lines of people shifted and stiffened. It was coming.

"Forty-three. . ."

Rock could feel Gustafa tensing behind him, ready to receive. . .

"Uh. . . What number comes next?"

The moment was shattered as seven people groaned, moaned, and growled in annoyance. Some threw their arms heavenward while others merely rolled their eyes. One man felt the need to angrily stamp his foot.

"Nice going, Rock!"

"Yeah, talk about stupid."

"How hard is it to remember three damn numbers?"

"C'mon, everybody! Pipe down!" cried Marlin above the din. Rock stopped laughing, smiling, and scratching the back of his head. He was hoping the farmhand would get them to stop ribbing him, but they weren't exactly on friendly terms, so. . .

"It's not his fault that he's got rocks for brains."

Naturally, this got a big laugh out of everyone present. It was the one joke that never grew old in Forget-Me-Not Valley.

_Yeah, yeah, laugh it up_, Rock thought to himself as he began to act sheepish and smile once more. Laughs are good, right?

Nami shook her head. "Well, the game doesn't have to be ruined. Not a single one of you knows what those numbers actually _mean_, anyway."

The people who were still laughing stopped and stared at Nami -- partially because she had actually said something, and partially because when she said something, it tended to have that effect. She met their silence with an even gaze.

Rock, of course, was just glad that the young redhead was no longer in the throes of rage. _I had _no_ clue that she was strong enough to pick me up by the shirt and toss me out the front door. . . _He gulped. That particular incident had happened that very morning, and they were still on shaky ground because of it.

"So," she continued, "I think it would be mature if we would all just --" Suddenly, she yanked the ball out of Rock's grasp and ran towards the rock face on the right-hand side of the field. Since none of them could afford to go out and buy actual goalposts -- nor did anyone wish to, for that matter -- the rock-face and the windmills both served as touchdown areas.

"-- keep playing!" Nami shouted, already halfway to the goal, her aloofness replaced with the hard edge of determination. Taken aback by Nami's sudden interest in continuing the game, the group, after a moment of vague bewilderment, enthusiastically dashed after her.

Rock smiled a silent thank you to the redhead. They'd be fine without him. He had other things to do. Turning around, he made his way towards the bridge.

"Rock!"

"Hm?" He turned his head to see Lumina yards away, seemingly torn between running after him and joining the merriment of the game.

"Yeah, Lumina?" He gave her what he hoped to be an especially charming smile. She was cute, young, and fun, so he enjoyed putting forth the extra effort. His smile must have worked, for Lumina blushed and mumbled something about their team being short one player if he left.

Rock's face twitched, but his bright grin remained. _Is that all?_ He was almost disappointed; it was always nice to be in the company of an attractive girl. Lumina's occasional shyness was a part of what Rock liked about her, but it was also frustrating.

"Don't worry! Just beg the other team for Cody." He laughed a little at his own joke, then lightly waved goodbye to her and walked off.

"Rock," Lumina called out, still watching him. Again, he turned.

"About what happened back there. . ."

Rock laughed. "Forget about it."

He left. Lumina watched him go until Hugh toddled over to her, grabbed her by the pants leg, and pulled her back into the game.

---

Shivering, Rock made his way down to the wooded spring. Although it was the end of winter and the snow had melted days ago, the air still retained its frigid bite, making his face and fingers miserable. However, Rock acknowledged that this was more his fault than nature's. After years of making this trip every day, he had failed to purchase himself proper winter clothing. Even when he snowboarded, he did so with only the addition of a helmet and a pair of gloves that he had lost at some lodge over five years ago.

Rock couldn't help but chuckle. He had been so foolish when he younger. The boy liked to think himself a bit wiser now. He definitely wouldn't leave fifty-dollar gloves lying around some lodge anytime soon. As he passed through the dappled light of the tree-flanked path, he couldn't help but think back to when he was even younger, to the time when he was only dimly aware of the concept of money and had been too preoccupied with play to care.

When he was a young child, Rock had loved the Harvest Goddess. He still remembered their first meeting. He had been a toddler no older than two, and Ruby and Tim had gone to Mineral Town to pray to the Goddess for some reason or other.

When she emerged from her pool, she had been beautiful. Everything about her had been green; her hair was the forest, her clothes the sunlit grass, and to the young, impressionable Rock, it had seemed as though the air itself had shimmered green, attempting to emulate its mistress and her earthly ways. She had held Rock in her arms, smelling of wet, tilled earth. In blessing, she had kissed him, her petal lips and corn silk hair brushing against his face. Truly, she was the embodiment of the harvest.

Years after the blessing, when Rock had become old enough to allowed to wander about the town, the boy had decided that he wanted to see the Harvest Goddess again. He had remembered that his parents had taken him to a pond and dropped in an offering of flowers, so he gathered a small bouquet and went to the only pond he knew. It was quite a ways into the woods, but he hadn't been worried.

Once there, he threw the bouquet into the heart of the pond and waited. Nothing happened. Confused, he sat on its bank and waited. Eventually, his young mind grew bored and convinced him to go back to town, but he returned at least once a week to sacrifice his toys to it. Rock had reasoned that, if he threw fun things into the pond, the Goddess was sure to reveal herself.

Sadly, she never had. His mother had told him that there was something wrong with the pond, and she couldn't manifest herself within it. When he was twelve or so, Ruby took him along on a trip to Mineral Town, and he had used the opportunity to ask the Harvest Goddess about the pond in Forget-Me-Not Valley.

"I am not yet welcome at that pond," she had replied, an unreadable expression on her face.

Rock had been utterly confused. Not only had the concept made little sense, but the way she spoke taxed his young brain until it screamed. "Why?"

She gave him an odd little smile, along with these words:

"Maybe you will learn why, and maybe not."

In the present, Rock reached the pond and sat down beside it. Since no one else was around for at least half a mile (1) and because he enjoyed doing it, the boy recited the Goddess's words aloud.

"I am sure you will, Romeo." Romeo was his real name. (2) Rock was just a childhood nickname that had stuck. He tried to pretend that people called him that because he was "awesome and rocked," but Marlin had already said the real reason. . .

He caught himself and blushed. Self-pity wasn't cool, even if no one was around to catch you in the act.

Anyway. . .

"In fact, I believe you will be the reason why I may be able to live there, Romeo." The Harvest Goddess had richly laughed at this point, but Rock knew he couldn't imitate it. Not even Muffy, the most sensuously-voiced woman in that part of Japan, could have imitated her.

"Do not wait for me your entire life, though. Go out; enjoy yourself. Find a nice girl, if you wish." Her eyes had zoned out ever so slightly, as if she could see something that he could not. Quickly, she had brightened and giggled once more.

"Yes, I think I know a perfect little Juliet for you. Sadly, she is locked away in an invincible castle, and she cannot come out and play unless something sad happens."

He hadn't quite understood this and still didn't to this day. Nevertheless, he had listened to her story with nothing but love and childish eagerness in his eyes. Even the wisest of old men looked upon their Goddess, their Mother, in the same way.

"You do not understand right now, and that is fine, but if you listen, I will bless you with a perfect memory of my words. That way, you will have them with you when you are old enough to understand them."

This had caught his attention and made him sit up straighter, even years later as he told himself the story. Rock laughed. _I'd thought that if I could remember something really well, I'd make Mom proud and get the other kids off my back._

"When she arrives, however, her castle will move with her." He had given her a confused look, and mirrored it presently. "It is. . . A fake castle, you see. It is invisible. In her mind."

"Oh. . . Is she pretending?"

The Goddess laughed. "No, my child, the castle is real. It is just in her mind, that is all." He nodded to show that he understood.

"You are one of the men I have decided to give a key to the castle. Once you leave here, you will carry a key with you wherever you go. Do not look for it," she said, for he had begun to do just that, "because it is like the castle: invisible. Otherwise, it would not work, you see," she finished, giving him a little wink and causing him to giggle.

"If you wish to save Juliet and unlock her from her castle, you may. However, be quick, for I am giving several other boys a key to the castle, as well."

"Why would you do that?"

"It is. . .complicated," she had said. "There is something that some people call fate. It is when someone believes that we are all destined to do things and have no control over our lives. I. . ." she trailed off, looking to the woods with a slightly bitter expression crossing her features.

"I do not like that idea. I do not want my children succumbing to that idea." She turned back to Rock, giving him a warm smile.

"So, I will give her, you, and the other boys the ability to make your own decisions. You do not have to rescue her, Romeo. She does not have to _allow_ you to rescue her, as well. It is just the same with the other boys. She can decide to stay locked up and away forever."

Rock looked at her, confused once again. "Why would she wanna do that?"

The Harvest Goddess met his confusion with a maternal, knowing smile.

"You will understand when you are older."

With that, she bent down and kissed Rock on the forehead, blessing him.

"Romeo, you will always remember this conversation and shall be able to recite it perfectly. It is my gift to you for being such a caring, good boy. I love you, my child. Go well."

With that, she emitted a light so bright that Rock had to shield his eyes from its sting. When it was safe for him to drop his arm and look, she had disappeared to the depths of her pond. The Harvest Goddess was gone.

Every day, Rock went down to the spring, and for every day he went to the spring, he told himself this story. Years later, he remembered it perfectly. It was his mind's pride and joy, though he never shared it with anyone else. The thought of sharing his story compared to the thought of being female: not only would it be uncomfortable, disorienting, and frighteningly foreign, but it would just be. . .wrong.

Presently, Rock sighed. He'd just realized that that incident was the last time he'd heard his real name spoken by another human being. . .

That, and he'd just realized that he was frozen stiff! Shivering, he brought his knees up to his chest and hugged himself for warmth. Although his face, ears, and hands felt as if little monsters were gnawing on them, Rock had no desire to go and warm up at the Inn. During his story, he hadn't had any time to enjoy the calm of the forest. Besides, he had always been very sensitive to the cold, so it probably wasn't anything to worry about.

Rock absentmindedly tore at what little grass the ground had and tossed it into his broken, empty pond. Without the story to occupy his thoughts, his blunder during the football game did.

"How could I be so stupid?" he murmured, ripping up more grass and exposing a patch of frozen earth. "It was a simple three-number sequence. . ."

Something clicked. "Twenty-two, forty-three, sixty."

Rock stopped what he was doing. "I _do _know it!" He couldn't believe it. He actually remembered it. He hadn't forgotten! His face broke into a joyful grin. He _really _remembered it!

And yet. . . A quiet, nagging thing crept towards him, like a fly on the walls of his mind, barely noticed until:

_And you _still_ managed to mess it up._

His face dropped. With one hand, Rock mercilessly clawed at the patch of dirt he had exposed. His eyes remained fixed on some far-off point that didn't exist.

He didn't care about his intelligence. His life wasn't _about_ that. It was about love and passion and freedom. Some people looked down on him for it, but he didn't care. He knew he was right to live for life and not for work. This didn't go over well with most people in his world, but it didn't matter to him.

"It doesn't matter. Of course I don't care." He laughed. He always laughed.

He laughed even when he collapsed onto his side, too dizzy to stay upright. He laughed until those laughs grew uncontrollable, coming out in erratic bursts. He laughed as he curled into a ball, hoping to fight off the death that wintertime promised unprepared humans, no matter how mild that wintertime was.

The idea of curling into a ball in order to fight something caused him to laugh louder.

---

Naturally, when you live in Forget-Me-Not Valley, you're never alone, never forgotten. Someone's always with you, more often in body than spirit or memory. This was one of those times, and the young body that had been present to witness this. . .this. . .

Muffy would know what to do. She always knew what to do. Especially about Rock.

---

"We were playing football, and, oh, Rock left after he forgot what to do! I didn't want him to go, but he did anyway, and then for awhile I played football, too, but then I said to myself that I didn't want to, that I wanted to follow him; so I did and then when I got there he was laughing and Muffy, Muffy, something was very very wrong! And--"

"Shhh," cooed the golden-haired barmaid, trying to calm down her younger, female companion. "Lumina, calm down. He was just laughing, right? There's nothing strange about that, dear. Please, tell me what happened at the football game. Do you think that it might have something to do with this?"

Lumina took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself, though she couldn't help but shudder.

"Okay," she said, still focusing on her breathing. "Rock was listing off the numbers that they players do in the beginning of a match. None of us knew what they did, so we just came up with sequences to shout out. Anyway, Rock forgot it, so he stopped. Everyone was really mad at him, and Marlin -- that jerk! -- he said that Rock couldn't help it because he has rocks for brains. I've always disliked that man. He's always so bitter about his health and how he has to work all the time, so he takes it out on everyone--"

"Hm," Muffy said, interrupting the other girl. "That doesn't really sound like Marlin, Lumina. Are you sure. . . ?"

"Positive. Marlin's always shy, but everyone knows he hates Rock. Rock's the opposite of Marlin, and Marlin hates that. He's always on his case! It's not fair. That. . .that. . . . Ugh!"

Once again, Muffy called Lumina to calm. Currently, they were in her room above the Blue Bar. She only entertained in her bower if the situation was important. Usually, this meant that someone was very upset and came to her for a shoulder to cry on or some advice. Even so, Muffy couldn't stand people sending out negative, nervous energy in her personal paradise. She always tried to keep her guests as sedated as possible, no matter what the situation.

"Lumina," she began, "I think you need to tell me more about what was so wrong with Rock. I don't understand, dear. You and I both know he laughs quite a bit. He could have been thinking of a joke, or possibly. . ." She trailed off, making a vague gesture with a dainty hand.

Lumina sadly shook her head, covering half her face with strands of hair. "I don't know, Muffy. It was just so. . .wrong. He sounded nuts. He was on the ground, shaking. I think he might've been sweating, too; his face was wet. At first, it was like. . .I don't know. . .a requiem." The girl turned to Muffy with a hopeful look. Muffy nodded; she was used to the girl's tendency to compare the real world with the world of music. From her understanding, Rock had sounded sad and muted.

"Then," she continued, giving Muffy a relieved look, "it turned into a baroque coloratura!" Again, she turned to Muffy with her look. The blonde could only blink and politely smile in response.

Lumina groaned in frustration, holding her head in her hands and gripping her hair as if she were ready to tear it out. "I don't know! It was weird, it was bizarre, it was. . .loud, unnatural. A rapid succession of notes! I mean laughs! I mean. . ." Fed up with her own poor communication skills, she began to cry.

Muffy sighed. _What a young little thing_, she thought. What Lumina had told her _was_ troubling, however. She decided that the best course of action would be to calm the girl down, assure her that nothing was wrong (which would be a simple task, really), and to keep an eye on Rock herself.

Young people these days. . . One moment, they're into drugs, the next they're having sex under the bleachers, and five minutes later they're committing suicide for the third time this month! Much too unstable to be left alone.

From personal experience, Muffy knew that Lumina was naive, but she wasn't completely stupid. She decided to use this to her advantage. "Lumina," she cooed, placing an arm on the girl's drooping shoulders, "you know that not everyone's happy all the time, right?"

The young pianist abruptly stopped and gave Muffy a deadpan look. Saying such a thing to a girl that had lost her parents at a young age and had been kept away from the rest of the world ever since was almost an unforgivable insult.

Sighing, Muffy gave the girl a tired smile. "Okay. That saves us time, dear. Good for you." It was time to feign light disinterest. She removed her arm from Lumina and covered her mouth to yawn.

"Now, what you saw was a bit unnerving, I know. I've seen people act the exact same way. However, I'm pretty sure that I know what caused it. Rock's in withdrawal." She slightly lowered her eyelids and inspected her cuticles.

Lumina let out a surprised squeak. "Oh my Goddess! I had no idea that Rock was in such trouble! Oh, Rock, how did you even get a hold of drugs out here?"

Muffy's expression became alert, and it was her turn to squeak in surprise. "Honey, no! Sweet heavens! Don't you see? It's not drugs, it's pretty girls!"

Again, Lumina's expression dropped to a blank deadpan. "Excuse me?"

"Of course! There haven't been any young beauties in this town for quite some time! Your recent adulthood makes you one, of course, but have you seen any lovely girls around here before you?"

"I - I'm not, I --"

"Dear, don't be modest," interrupted Muffy, winking as she did. "Don't worry about it. In fact. . ." Muffy's smile grew wider and her eyes more crinkled. "I think you should spend some more time with Rock! Keep an eye on him. I'm sure he'll snap right out of his withdrawal."

"You think?" Lumina appeared skeptical to Muffy, but the uncertainty in her voice and the tint in her cheeks said otherwise.

"Of course, dear. You're fabulous. Why don't you go to the Inner Inn to go wait for him right now?" She giggled. "Take him for a walk. Talk about parties at Mineral Town and the beach and snowboarding and all that stuff he's interested in. He'll be cured in no time!"

Before the musician could reply, Muffy was already gently (yet firmly) guiding her towards the trapdoor exit of her room. "Go, go! Forget about what you saw and enjoy yourself! Your youth should be spent enjoying the outdoors in the company of handsome men, not in some lady's bower!"

"Goodbye," said Lumina breathlessly as the door came down on her head.

---

Muffy lightly nibbled a finger as she cast a dark glance across her room. Kids, love, Rock -- all were bad subjects to deal with.

She stood, making her way from her red satin, black laced bed to her polished redwood vanity, which was complete with a small, matching seat. They were of high quality and inlaid with carvings of wild, thorned roses. Naturally, both the vanity and its matching seat were gifts from an ex-lover. The seat was comfortably cushioned and covered with the same type of red satin in which Muffy's comforter and bed sheets were made.

In fact, the entire room was covered in red satin. The curtains, the settee, the bed and its canopy, the vanity's stool. . . Even her bureau and nightstand were draped with it. As Muffy perched atop her vanity's seat, she took in the deep, rich colorings of her paradise and allowed herself to sigh at the beauty of her world.

Her plan had gone better than expected. Lumina would now be clinging to Rock like moss to a boulder. She could forget about them and their problems and indulge in a carefree, serene afternoon. Perhaps she'd take a candlelit bubble bath while reading the European fashion magazine her man had given her. . .

The phone rang. Her paradise's tranquility was shattered as she lunged at it with the ferocity of a starved lioness. Her tone was composed, but the hunger in her eyes betrayed her. Only one person knew her number.

"My love, how are you?"

---

Marlin hiccupped. "Another."

Griffin frowned. "No. You've had too much, kid."

Marlin hunched over the bar's countertop and scowled. "Don't call me "kid,"" he slurred. "You're only. . .what, twenty years older than me?"

Griffin's frown deepened, framing his mustache with sagging lines of skin. "You know, Marlin, maybe you should go."

From a corner of the bar, Muffy sighed. First, she had become too wound up to take the night off, and now she had to listen to Griffin deal with some drunken 80's greaser. That night, the only thing she was grateful for was the fact that everyone that mattered was either sleeping or too plastered to notice her shaken look and disheveled hair.

"Oh, Griffin," she sighed, "just give the man what he wants. There are no cars to crash into little children in Forget-Me-Not, and I'm sure the doctor knows how to treat someone who ODed."

The door creaked open. "That sure doesn't sound like the Muffy _I_ know!"

The barmaid froze. Rock had just cheerily entered the Blue Bar with Lumina clinging to his side. She was pleased that Lumina was doing her job, but the thought of being seen with slightly sagging curls terrified her. Upon seeing Marlin at the bar, Rock had froze and stiffened, but Muffy was too flustered to notice.

"I'm sorry, but I need to excuse myself," she murmured, making her way towards the backroom's door.

"Wait," Marlin croaked out. "Muffy, you'll give me a drink, won't you. . . ?" Since Muffy was in a less-than-cheery mood, she had several nasty things neatly lined up in her head in reply, but the farmhand continued before she could choose one. "If you do, I'll give you a --" he paused to hiccup "-- very good piece of information."

"Ooh, gossip!" Rock, beating back his feelings for the man, bounced onto a barstool next to Marlin and gave Muffy his trademark grin. "Come on, Muffy! If you don't pour him one, I will! I wanna hear this." Lumina, however, politely laughed and left it at that. She seemed disinterested either way -- too busy sympathetically patting Rock's arm and shooting glares at Marlin. Both men ignored her.

"Well, I _suppose_ I could allow it," Griffin mused. The old man rarely heard anything of interest, and he didn't expect to hear anything now. He just wanted to put another drink in Marlin to get him to go home. The farmhand was pleasant (if not a tad gloomy) when he was sober, but when drunk, he was known to cause problems.

"Alright, then," Muffy replied, putting on a cheery smile and allowing the notes of her sentences lilt. "I'm not pouring you a Stone Oil, though, dear. I think a Blue Punch is good enough for you."

"Thank you," the dark-haired man muttered when he received his drink. In a spectacular feat, he gulped the liquid down in a half moment's time.

"Man," Rock exclaimed, "that was like fourteen and a half shots in one go!" Lumina raised her eyebrow at this, but no one else did. Muffy knew that Rock was very familiar with alcohol, but she found it surprising that Lumina didn't. _She really _is_ a young thing_.

After Rock's cry, silence took the bar. Only the soft, scratchy sound of a guitar recording filled the air. Eventually, Marlin grunted and stood to leave.

"Wait," called Muffy. "Honey, I think you owe me that bit of gossip." Rock chimed in with some agitated shouting.

Marlin's head, usually tilted towards the ground, jerked up with the speed of a telegram. He was at the door, but he turned his head to speak to the bar patrons. "Oh. Almost forgot. Takakura and Vesta were talking. . . Some chick's coming to take over Rei's farm. I think it was his kid. Her name. . . It's Raiko, I think." With his mission accomplished, Marlin staggered out of the bar.

For a brief moment, the pub grew silent once more. Then, all at once, energy burst forth from everyone.

"How cool! She's probably my age, too!" Lumina, who hadn't been interested in the least with the proceedings, was now excited with the prospect of a friend.

"A new chick! Sweet! Rei wasn't that bad-looking of a guy, so I bet she's not too bad, herself!" Rock laughed, but Lumina grew quiet.

Griffin was only lightly intrigued. "Another person in Forget-Me-Not won't affect business much. She prolly don't even drink. Rei never did."

Muffy laughed along with Rock. If she had believed a word of her "Rock needs more pretty girls" story, she would have been ecstatic, but now, she only wondered how a woman was going to run a farm by herself.

"Don't you find it odd that a woman will be doing all that on her own? I'm a bit skeptical," Muffy said, voicing her thoughts.

"Well, Vesta's doing just fine," Griffin replied.

"Yes, but. . ." Muffy trailed off, considering ways to politely say "Yes, but Vesta is half human, half ogre, and at one time, she probably had a penis."

Rock gave Muffy a knowing smile. "Vesta's special, yeah? I don't think an average woman could do what she does."

A muffled beeping sound interrupted the conversation. Griffin sighed.

"Time to close shop. Everybody out."

Lumina brightened. "Okay! Goodbye! Rock, let's go to the beach and watch the tide." She was already pulling him out the door by the crook of his arm.

"Aw, I wanted to talk more about that Raiko girl. . . Oh, and goodbye! 'Bye Muffy, 'bye Griffin!" The door slammed shut.

Muffy sighed. "Aren't kids. . ."

Griffin could only laugh in response. "You're too young to be saying such things, Muffy."

Muffy could only offer him one of her rare, true smiles and a twirl of a golden curl of her hair. "Yeah, you're right. Goodnight." She squeezed past him, walked through his bedroom, and climbed up into hers.

"Yeah," Griffin chuckled, "goodnight."

---

(1) Man, I wish that we could figure out a consistent real-life scale for Forget-Me-Not Valley. There is no way that town is as small as it is, especially when you factor in the game's clock and the amount of space needed to keep a barn and a substantial area to grow crops. I'll try to give rough approximations, but just keep in mind that this place is a lot bigger than what the game suggests.

(2) I don't know how common this knowledge is, but Rock's name in the Japanese games is "Romeo." Isn't it perfect? I figured that it would be nice to have Romeo be his real name and Rock to be his nickname. Once I found out that his real name was Romeo, I couldn't bring myself to forget about it and not use it.

Oh, and about Muffy's comment about Vesta: Personally, I don't think this about her. Really, I find it to be rude that so many people are so. . ._rude_ when they discuss Vesta. Sure, she's a big lady with a square jaw and strong arms; that doesn't mean you can go around and. . .act like Muffy, I suppose. Oh, well.

Now, let's see if I can't publish the next chapter a bit sooner than, say, May. (A joke, a joke.)

- A i D A


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